


lonely avenue

by aniloquent



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Divorce, F/M, Loneliness, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 13:50:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5746180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aniloquent/pseuds/aniloquent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam feels Louis’ eyes on him, but doesn’t meet them. “Yeah. That’s why I started buying from you, mate. My wife left me about four months ago? Maybe five?” Liam shrugs, trying to speak around the lump in his throat as casually as he can. “You sleep by yourself enough times and you lose track.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Liam's wife left him unexpectedly. He has trouble coping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lonely avenue

**Author's Note:**

> MULTIPLE UPLOADS IN ONE DAY WOW! Not a huge feat, this is also an old work as well that I never got around to editing/posting. It's a little sad, but I love Liam and I love writing him, and Lonely Avenue by Stephen Marley is an amazing song, and Sophiam was such an era, so this was bound to happen one way or another. Hopefully I get more time to finish my other projects soon, school is such a hassle and writer's block is sort of terrible. Enjoy!

It’s 2:15 p.m. when Liam is woken up by the incessant banging on his door.

He groans and rolls over, dragging the thick comforter over his hair. His shaggy hair. He hasn’t shaved - much less touched anything on his body in forever he thinks as his head pounds. Last night he got pissed and passed out, and now he just wants everything to be quiet and for whoever is pounding on his door to fucking  _ stop _ .

“Liam James,” he hears a familiar Irish accent call through the apartment. Liam sighs and pulls the covers higher over his head. “Wake the fuck up, it’s the afternoon and you haven’t called me.”

_ Maybe if I convince him I’m dead he’ll leave me alone _ , Liam thinks, and closes his eyes in a feeble attempt to go back to sleep.

He jumps up with a snore when Niall gives the door a particularly vicious thud, and Liam briefly wonders if he used his whole body with that one. He knows it’ll only get worse from here. “I’m coming, you twat!” he yells, reluctantly stepping away from his bed. “try to keep my door on its fucking hinges, yeah?”

The knocking ceases as Liam make his way to the door. He kicks dirty underwear and empty pizza boxes out of the way in irritation, cursing at himself and Niall as he clears a path. Having guest was overrated. 

He winces as he sees a burned out blunt resting on the sofa. He steps over last week’s jeans to pick it up and deposit it in the garbage. Niall would kill him if he saw that.

After what seems like ages of tidying up his house, Liam finally yanks the door open to a cheery, smiling Niall, looking up at him with a McDonald’s bag in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. “Good morning, beautiful, can I come in?”

Liam stares at him flatly. “No.”

Niall’s grin doesn’t falter. “Of course I can,” he scoffs, and pushes past Liam with a quick peck on the cheek. Liam rolls his eyes and shuts the door before following the short blonde into the living room.

“Technically, I didn’t give you consent to enter,” Liam points out, taking a seat on the couch across from Niall, who has his knees pulled up to his chest, looking around in disgust. He ignores the look, reaching for the brightly colored bag. He gives Niall a thankful beam as he bites into a McGriddle. “So you’re an intruder, and I could have you arrested.”

Niall raises his eyebrows. “We both know you wouldn’t do that.” Liam gives him a shrug and takes a sip of his coffee. Sweet and creamy, he thinks in gratitude. Niall sighs and rubs his hands together, crossing his ankles and searching Liam’s face with a worried blue stare. “How are you, love? You feelin’ better?”

Liam looks past undercooked sausage to raise his eyebrows at Niall. He nods understandingly. “Broad term, fair enough. What have you been up to, better yet?”

“Since the last time you tried to punch my door in or in general?” Niall narrows his eyes. Liam thinks for a minute, then shrugs. “‘Dunno. Caught a few reruns of The Inbetweeners. Got a little twisted.” Niall frowns at that, and Liam waves a dismissive hand, carrying the smell of grilled beef with him. “It wasn’t anything too bad. I’m a big boy, Niall. I know how to stop myself.”

A long silence follows. Niall still doesn’t look convinced. “It’s been four months, Li.” Liam nods, gulping down his coffee at a rate that burns the back of his throat, but it helps justify the tears pooling in his eyes. “She’s not coming back. You have to get it together.” He desperately guzzles the caffeine, feeling it trace into the beard that seemed to have a mind of its own.

Liam finally slams the paper cup down on his coffee table in triumph. Niall looks at him in confusion. “I’ll get it together, Niall. Promise.”

Niall’s blonde hair moves with him as he shakes his head. “You’re serious?”

Liam nods, taking a final bite of his breakfast. Lunch. Whatever. “Dead serious.” Niall eyes him suspiciously, and Liam gives him his best puppy dog eyes. “C’mon. I don’t ever break my promises, do I?”

Niall glares at him for a few more seconds before sighing, getting to his feet. “Fine. That’ll have to do for now. I have to get back to work.” He walks over to Liam, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Shave, will ya? The stubble is sexy, but you look homeless.” Liam nods, standing and leading Niall to the door with a hand on his back.

“Thanks, I’ll talk to you later.” He shut the door in his face, pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing a number.

-

 

“Did you get all dolled up for me, Payno?” Louis flirts, pushing past Liam into his apartment. He sighs, rubbing the back of his newly shaved head. He has put a stop to people barging into his place. 

“No, I didn’t,” he snaps jokingly, watching Louis sit down on the couch, seemingly immune to the mess. He likes Louis, he thinks, following him to end up in a position similar to the one he was in with Niall not too long ago. He’s a good dealer, always timely and always has the best stuff. Louis jokes around like they’re old friends, but he never intrudes in Liam’s personal life. Not too close and not too distant. Perfect, Liam thinks as he watches Louis pull containers out of his backpack and place them on the cluttered coffee table. “You’re not my type, anyways.”

Louis pauses at that, looking up at Liam with amused eyes and raises eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” Liam nods, and Louis snorts, shaking his head and continuing to rummage through the bulky bag. “Good to know. ‘M engaged.” Liam blinks dumbly until Louis straightens again, and he shoots Liam another simper. “What, surprised, Payno?”

Liam scratches his arm, looking away. “Not really, I guess. Just impressed to see them stepping up their game in adoption at the orphanage.” He laughs as Louis flips him the bird. “Your, uh...”

“Boyfriend,” Louis finishes, looking up at Liam. “Or, fiancee, I guess. He likes the term better because it makes us seem more official.” Liam grins at Louis’ attempt to hide his blush by rolling his eyes.

“Right. He’s okay with you being… you know… “

“A drug dealer? Jesus, do I have to finish all of your sentences for you, Liam?” Louis sneers, but there’s no venom behind it. “Yeah, for now. I mean, eventually I’ll have to get a proper job, but that’s too far into the future for me, you know?” Liam nods, a jealous pang throbbing in his chest. He misses being in a relationship. 

“But, enough about me, let’s get you fucked up, huh? These are a select few that I picked out, just for you.” Louis claps his hands together and pushes three containers across the table to Liam. “We have Lemon Squares,” he opens the container, and Liam winces at the strong smell he’s hit with. “Late Night,” the weed is a beautiful mixture of greens, blues, and purples, and Liam is entranced. “and, my personal favorite, Cock.” Liam looks up at Louis, who shrugs. “It gets the job done and leaves you messed up for days.”

Liam snorts, looking over his choices. “Late Night.” he says easily, and hands Louis over the money. Louis rolls his blunts for him, and Liam reclines back in the couch, looking up at the ceiling. “Louis?” Louis gives him a grunt that Liam thinks is an invitation to talk more. “Do you think I’m fit?” Another grunt, this one more encouraging. “Like, fit enough to get married again?”

Louis looks up, eyes narrowed into azure little slits. “Again?”

Liam feels Louis’ eyes on him, but doesn’t meet them. “Yeah. That’s why I started buying from you, mate. My wife left me about four months ago? Maybe five?” Liam shrugs, trying to speak around the lump in his throat as casually as he can. “You sleep by yourself enough times and you lose track.”

Silence falls between them, and the only sound for about ten minutes is the paper crinkling between Louis’ hands. Liam is still watching the ceiling. He’s used to this kind of silence. When she was here, the last few months were deafeningly quiet. There wasn’t any type of conversation, and Liam learned to appreciate it. Sometimes talking led to fighting, and Liam didn’t want to risk that, even with someone as harmless as Louis. Not again.

Soon enough, though, Louis is finished, and pushes five neatly wrapped blunts of Late Night towards Liam. He packs up his things and gets to his feet. Liam stands to follow him to the door, but Louis denies. “I’ll let myself out, don’t worry about me, babe.” he promises, and gives pats Liam’s shoulder. “Uh, Payno?” Liam looks up at him, confused about Louis’ change from snarky and playful to solemn and motherly. “Be careful, alright? I care about you.”

Liam nods, unable to say anything, and listens to Louis leave. He takes the lighter out of the pocket of his jeans and grabs one of the lines on the table.

Time to get fucked up.

-

Liam sobers up more quickly than he would like to, and his eyes jolt back into focus. He wheezes a few times around the thick smoke clouding his face, batting it out of existence. The floating feeling is gone, and he feels the fabric of his shirt, light and airy underneath his fingertips.

The henley is soft, soft like her skin, Liam thinks, squeezing his eyes shut. He remembers it like it was this morning.

_ It was a Wednesday, Liam knew, because he hated Wednesdays. It was far away enough from Monday for his brain to shift to the weekend, but not close enough to Friday for him to slack off on his work. It was always the hardest day to get through. _

_ He remembers hearing the gravelly rolling of wheels against the wooden floors of their apartment before he even got his key properly in the door, and he stopped. Liam put an ear to the wood, and his eyebrows furrowed as he heard his wife bustling around the flat. She never told him she was going out of town. _

_ Liam shoulders in purely out of curiosity, and he’s at a loss for words when he sees the scene unfolding in front of him: the clothes strewn about, some haphazardly packed into a large suitcase, the electronics neatly gathered in the middle of the commotion, and his wife, primped to perfection, stomping around in what looks to still be her business attire. _

_ Liam’s mouth in dry, and he’s trying not to panic. “Babe?” he calls out weakly, watching her barely meet his confused gaze as she sweeps past him into the kitchen. _

_ “I’ll just take some of the stuff I bought last time I made a round to Tesco. I know you like the granola bars and protein shakes.” _

_ Liam feels his eyes water, and doesn’t bother to blink back the tears. If he’s honest with himself, he knew this was going to happen. He knew she was going to leave, knew she didn’t love him anymore, knew that their marriage was over. Just because his premonitions had been affirmed, though, didn’t mean that he couldn’t try to stop it by letting her see how much he was hurting.  _

_ She barrels back into the room again, dropping an armful of groceries down by her stuff on the floor. She turns around to see Liam, red-faced and trembling, and sighs. She purses her lips and raises her eyebrows, the same look that she gets when she doesn’t want to take the blame for anything. “What?” _

_ Liam barely refrains from stomping his foot like a petulant child. “What the hell do you mean what? You’re leaving me!” _

_ She crosses her arms, and opens her mouth to speak, but Liam talks right over her. He’s been giving her too many chances to talk. _

_ “I love you, you know that? Since the day I met you, I’ve loved you, and I’ve tried to give you everything you’ve ever wanted, tried to be everything you’ve ever needed, and you’re leaving me.” Liam laughs in disbelief, looking through watery eyes at the vacant room around him. He braids his fingers in his hair and tugs, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I’m so stupid, God.” _

_ She frowns, and Liam sees more emotion in the crease between her immaculate eyebrows than he has in months. Usually he would feel dishearteningly guilty for making her upset, but now he reckons it’s his only defense. “Liam, you’re not stupid. Don’t be ridiculous.” _

_ “And leaving me makes you just as fucking ‘ridiculous’, love,” He spits, and she blinks, stepping away from him. “I’m sorry I’m stupid. I’m sorry I don’t always get what you’re talking about, I’m sorry I mess up so many times, I’m sorry I forget so many things. I’m sorry, okay? But if I can put up with all the bullshit you give me for not being perfect all the fucking time, why can’t you do the same for me? You’re so fucking selfish, sometimes, fuck!” Liam hits the wall, and she flinches, moving to the other side of the room. He scoffs. _

_ “I wouldn’t even dream of hitting you, you know that.” Liam drops to his knees, staring at nude heels planted firmly on the ground. “I love you. I’m sorry I’m so stupid.” he pleads again, but the suitcase wheels just resume their trek across the floor. _

Stupid, Liam thinks, and swings his legs around to the side of his bed. He hangs his head between his knees. He was so stupid to think that she would ever come back. 

Liam’s eyelids are getting heavy, and he briefly wonders if he’s dying. That would be nice, he thinks as he flops back on his bed. He can’t even bring himself to seek shelter in the comfort of his thick, cotton cover. If he opens his eyes again completely, they’ll start to burn. 

Tears are leaking down his cheeks and into his mouth by the time he finally drifts off to sleep.

-

  
It’s 3:15 p.m. when Liam is woken up by the incessant banging on his door the next morning.


End file.
